Atlas (The Atlas Series) (8 page)

Turner reached out and shook Kala’s hand warmly. “This was what you were hiding,” he said it as a statement of fact. Somehow, he was able to tell that Kala had told him everything she knew.

“Now that I said it, it sounds idiotic, doesn’t it, sir?” Kala felt comforted by Turner’s hand in hers, like he was her lifeline to sanity.

Turner gently pulled his hand away and waved to the flipped table. “We can all be a bit dramatic at times.”

Kala smiled and felt like she could tell General Turner anything. There was a warmth to him that reminded her of her foster dad. He oozed a charisma that made Kala proud that she was a part of his team. Of course, seconds before, she had been terrified of the man, but seeing him look at her with relief and kindness made her wonder how she could have ever been scared of him. She guessed the mixture of both were the reasons Turner was in the position he was in today.

The General motioned toward the door. “Dismissed, lieutenant.”

Kala saluted and was about to turn around to exit when Turner added, “People have been known to black out using the phase-suits, and this was the first time they’d been used jumping into a moving plane. The air pressure alone could have caused you to black out.”

Kala nodded in appreciation at Turner’s explanation to make her feel better. “What about hallucinations, sir?” She thought she’d ask the source. As much as Kala would love to blame the air pressure and the phase-suits, it didn’t explain why she was
still
hallucinating.

Turner thought a second, then shook his head. “You just had a bad dream. It wasn’t real or a hallucination.”

Not wanting to admit her current predicament with the clocks, Kala saluted General Turner once more and left. As she walked down the hallway, Kala wondered how long it would take before General Clifton would try and undermine Turner’s decision to let her live. There was a tension between the two of those men. At some point it would come to a head, Kala just prayed the head wouldn’t be hers.

Chapter Seven

After a few hours of paperwork, Kala was released from the Compound and Jack drove her to the bar to pick up her car. He hardly said a word as he maneuvered his way through morning traffic. Kala kept her eyes out the window so as not to stare at the digital clock on Jack’s car radio. Like the others she’d seen before, it was counting down. When she first sat in the car it said: 3d 20h 33m 12s. Doing a little quick math from Derek’s earlier time read of 5 A.M., Kala figured it was around 9:30 A.M. She really hoped that if this was some kind of drug screwing up her brain that it would get out of her system soon. Kala wasn’t much of a water drinker, but the first thing she planned to do when she arrived home was drink a gallon of it.

“Kala?” Jack said her name like he was a kid about to ask for a forbidden cookie.

Kala couldn’t resist making fun of him, even in her hyper-stressed state. “Yes,
Jack
?”

Jack barely smiled. If Kala thought she was on edge, Jack looked like he was off the ledge and falling. He cleared his throat, “I’m sorry about how things went down. I didn’t want you to have that kind of burden on your shoulders.” Something in the way Jack said it made Kala think that he was trying to say something more, but couldn’t.

“It’s in the job description, right?” Kala didn’t know why she was trying to make light of the situation. It was just the way she coped with the un-copable.

“Considering that the President was our boss, no, I don’t think killing him was in our job description.” Jack briefly glanced over at Kala and she felt a thrill run through her body. The way he looked at her made her feel like she wanted to crawl up in his lap and have him hold her until this whole nightmare was over.

“And I didn’t even get fired.” Kala wanted to punch herself for her flippancy, but couldn’t seem to control herself.

“Just be careful, okay? I’ll give you a heads up if I hear anything, because this situation is far from over.” Again, Jack sounded like he was talking about two things instead of one.

Kala shut up after that and started to replay the incident in her head. The President seemed so sure he was doing the right thing. He kept on saying he’d figured it out. Figured what out? Then Kala remembered something else. Something Jack said.

“On the plane, you acted like you knew what the President was talking about. You told him that killing himself wouldn’t work, that people had tried in the past. What did you mean?” Kala thought that maybe Jack had been under another secret mission. Maybe that was why he was acting so strange. She remembered Jack receiving a text minutes before she did, like he was operating on separate orders.

“I was just trying to talk him down, tell him something that would make him listen,” Jack said a little too quickly, like he had prepared himself for that question.

“It seemed like more than that,” Kala pried. She knew Jack better than anyone and she could tell he was hiding something.

Jack pulled into the parking lot of the bar, next to Kala’s Buick Apollo. “Here we are,” he said changing the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my place?”

Kala opened the car door and shook her head. “No, I need to be in my own apartment right now.”

“Call me later,” Jack said. His eyes flashed that same worry and concern he had shown when Kala first woke up.

Kala decided not to push him, but it was unsettling to see Jack so worried about her for some reason. More than she cared to admit. “Will do,” she responded with a smile and shut the car door behind her.

She pulled out her keys from her pocket and opened her heavy car door, knowing that Jack would watch her get in and start the car. He was a gentlemen through and through and would never think about leaving the parking lot without knowing for sure that Kala made it away safely. Kala backed out of her space. She waved to Jack. He waved back, then pulled out and left right behind her.

Kala didn’t turn on her radio for fear of seeing its digital clock and the dreaded countdown she couldn’t stop hallucinating. All her thoughts were focused on getting home and sleeping this whole thing off.

After an hour of annoying traffic, Kala finally pulled into her apartment building’s garage. She had to squeeze her car into its spot because her obnoxious neighbors never could seem to park inside the lines. Kala didn’t care today. She just exited her car and took the elevator up to the fourth floor of her building. Being only four floors, Kala liked the fact that her apartment was on top. It gave her a view of the city, which was rare for a cheap apartment complex like hers.

Kala entered her one-bedroom apartment and tried to shake off the last 24 hours of her life. She wanted to sleep away the rest of the day, but she hated wasting time. As much as people rationalized that “people need their rest” or “there’s such a thing as relaxing” Kala just didn’t feel that way. If she didn’t accomplish at least two or three things a day, she felt that the day was completely wasted.

Kala laughed to herself. No wonder why she had delusions of grandeur when she’d passed out. Her overblown need to accomplish things made her create the ultimate job: saving the world every four days. How very prophetic.

At that point Kala couldn’t keep it in anymore, and she started to laugh out loud. It felt good, relieving. The more she thought about it, the better she felt. It was like when you first wake up from a dream that you’re positive would make an amazing blockbuster movie, but after a few minutes of really thinking about it, the whole thing falls apart at the seams. It doesn’t make sense anymore and for the life of you, you can’t seem to fathom how you ever thought it was a good story to begin with.

Kala decided to fight against her need to do something productive today and try to relax. Besides, drinking water and flushing out whatever it was in her system that was causing her to hallucinate a countdown on every clock she saw seemed like a good idea. She wondered when Derek would call and let her know what the heck she had ingested at that bar.

Heaving a huge sigh of disgust at the state of her apartment, Kala kicked her way through dirty laundry strewn all over the floor and made her way to the kitchen. She didn’t have far to go, of course, since the apartment itself was small, miniscule really, with the bedroom off to the left only about two-hundred square feet and the living room/kitchen hardly larger. It was basically two box-sized rooms. Kala owned little furniture to speak of. In the center of the living room was an old plushy green armchair that looked as if she had rescued it from a dumpster. Across from the chair was a large wooden crate, which held up a the thirty-six inch flat screen TV that was the only source of entertainment for Kala.

It took her all of two seconds to reach the kitchen and Kala wanted to walk away instantly from the dirty dishes in the sink. She was pretty sure that every dish she owned was stacked in the sink, a food-covered mound of ceramic crud. She thanked her lucky stars it was winter, otherwise she’d most likely be sharing her kitchen with a few million ants. Grabbing a large bottle of water, Kala fled the offensive sight of her kitchen and plopped down on the most comfy chair imaginable. She’d had the chair for years, Owen and Linda having bought it for her when she moved into her first apartment. It was a little used and worn even back then, but now it was completely formed to Kala’s body, making it the world’s most perfect chair.

Taking the remote off the crate, Kala turned on the television.

What she saw made her lose the ability to breathe.

Kala saw herself on the television.

She was holding a gun and pointing it at…

Jack.

He was kneeling on the ground in a bedroom Kala didn’t recognize. His face was calm, but there were tears in his eyes. The Kala in the television looked broken, her hands shaking as she held the gun to Jack’s forehead. Then…

BAM!

Jack fell to the ground, a bullet in his head.

Kala screamed as she watched herself murder the only man she ever loved.

The scene repeated itself. Kala couldn’t seem to turn off the television. She kept watching herself kill Jack over and over and over again.

Hallucinating. She
had
to be hallucinating. Kala tried switching channels to maybe snap herself out this nightmare.

But every channel she turned to showed the same footage: Kala shooting Jack point blank in the head.

Kala turned off the TV and threw the remote across the room, shattering it against the wall.

Then she remembered what Atlas had told her about seeing her mission in a vision. He has said it would come to her in a way that her brain wanted to see it...

Apparently, for Kala, it was on the television.

Kala shook her head. She couldn’t accept it, not this, especially if what she saw was real. Killing Jack was unfathomable to her...

Her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID: Derek.

Kala didn’t wait for a hello, she dove right in. “Derek? What the hell is this crap someone put inside me? It’s driving me insane!”

“Slow down, girl.” Derek tried to calm Kala through the phone.

“Sorry, but these hallucinations are out of control.” The image of killing Jack seared into her mind.

There was silence on the other end.

“Derek? Are you there?” Kala stood up from her chair and almost tripped on a pair of jeans as she made her way to the window. “I get horrible reception in here.”

“I’m here,” Derek said quietly. “Kala, listen, there’s nothing in your blood. You’re clean.”

Kala stood frozen for a few seconds, trying to process what Derek had just told her.

“Kala?” Derek’s voice sounded worried.

Kala had known Derek long enough to know that he officially thought she was losing it.

“What’s wrong with me?” Kala had intended on making Derek think this whole thing was a big joke while she secretly figured out what was really going on. Instead, her basic instinct was to connect to one of the truest friends she ever had. Derek would support her no matter what, even if she was insane.

“Just give it a day, Kala. People hallucinate under high stress situations. Look it up. I did a lot of research about it. I’m emailing you some links.” Derek sounded more studious than Kala had ever heard from him. He must really be worried. Kala’s condition had actually made him
research
, something Derek had never been known to do.

“Yeah, I will, thanks Derek.” Kala needed to be off the phone.

“Call me if you need me. I’ll be by later to bring you dinner. I know you don’t have crap in that craphole.”

He was right, buying groceries was never a priority on Kala’s to do list, that’s what take out was for. “See you later then,” Kala replied, then hung up and placed her phone on the window sill.

Everything went still in Kala’s being. She stared out the window at the busy street below. Cars moving to and fro, everyone with a destination. Everything seemed so small. Kala felt small.

No drugs.

Everything she had experienced was real or she was certifiable.

Denial is a funny thing.

Kala still wasn’t sure if she was ready to leave it yet.